Wastes of the Heart
by Wellman1989
Summary: A take on Coppola’s Apocalypse Now and Conrad’s Heart of Darkness set in the Fallout universe. Details Knight Gallows' attempt to locate a rogue BoS Paladin named Katz. What follows is a shocking journey into the Wasteland inside every man. Please Review!
1. The Beginning

Heart of the Wastes (Working Title)

By: Wellman1989

Introduction

It was just another day in the capitol ruins. Cluttered streets scattered with garbage and general junk from a civilization that destroyed itself 200 years ago snaked between hollowed out buildings. At times the ruins seemed to be skeletal, gawking down at you as if they knew the secret to some horrific death that awaited you around the next corner and were delighted to have the opportunity to witness it first hand.

Lyon's Pride, the finest that the Brotherhood of Steel could muster, cautiously wound around destroyed cars and piles of debris. They were spread out in case they were ambushed and stray fire blew one of the cars' mini-reactors, which were still volatile after 200 years of inactivity. Each man (and woman) in the Pride had earned their spot on the team through countless acts of valor in the field.

Sentinel Sarah Lyons led her team expertly, fully capable of making tough decisions in the most hectic of battle situations. Under her were Knight Captains Colvin, Dusk, and Gallows, all of whom were extremely talented in their respective fields of communications, sniping, and spec ops. There were three more Paladins in the squad at the time.

Their mission was to assault a known Raider hard point and liberate the slaves that had reportedly been gathered there for sale and transport to Paradise Falls. Sentinel Lyons hoped to get this done quickly and get back to the Citadel before dark.

"Let's step it up, unless you guys want to spend the night in the Ruins again!" she shouted behind her. Without wasted communication the Pride kicked it into gear and began jogging double time to the office building that was supposed to house the slaves.

They were moving so rapidly over the terrain that they were half way into the mine field before the first ones went off.

"Get down!" commanded Lyons as assault rifle fire chattered from both sides of the street.

The Pride scattered so as not to become a single perfect target for a missile and found cover as best as they could. Moments later Paladin Glade opened fire with his minigun into the windows where the muzzle flashes were coming from. As he poured death through the openings of the ruins from the middle of the street, the rest of the squad split up and breached said buildings from street level.

Gallows, Sarah, and Paladin Kodiak (a veritable jack-of-all-trades) went into the west building while the remainder of the team, including Glade, took the east side. They quickly discovered that the very Raiders that they had been sent to deal with had gotten the drop on them and were responsible for this ambush. Unfortunately for them the Pride were the best of the best and quickly cut a swathe of death through the ill-equipped and underwhelming Raiders.

Alas, as the Pride had finished clearing the buildings the sun gave its last burst of light and slipped below the horizon ending another grueling day in the Capitol Ruins and putting to bed any hope of the Pride being able to accomplish their mission that day.

"That's it for today ladies and gentlemen," said Sentinel Lyons, "let's pack it in for tonight and get started early in the morning."

The Pride complied and quickly fortified the western office building they had just cleared as they deemed it more defensible than the other. When preparations for waiting out the night were made, Paladin Vargas began to prepare the evening meal of Cram and InstaMash and everyone allowed themselves the smallest bit of relaxation from the constant threat of death that anyone operating in the Ruins became accustomed to.

All except for Knight Captain Gallows. It wasn't ever what he said exactly that tipped you off, in fact he rarely spoke at all. His body language was enough to let one know that he never let his guard down. Paladin Glade always took it upon himself to tease Gallows about his rather off putting austerity and gravity.

"Hey Gallows, what the hell's the matter with you? You look like someone spat in your Sugar Bombs daily and nightly when you were a kid."

Gallows didn't look up to acknowledge that he had even heard Glade's barb. Instead he continued cleaning his Laser Rifle.

"You know, Gallows," chimed in Knight Captain Dusk, "it might increase team solidarity if you were to lighten up a bit, or maybe just let us get to know you a bit more."

"Ahh, sounds like someone wants to hear a story!" laughed Glade, "Old Dust and Grime here hasn't said ten words to any of us that weren't in the field commands as long as I've been here!"

Gallows didn't know what it was that made him start his story. Maybe, he thought later, he just felt like getting Glade off his back or felt like proving him wrong. Or maybe he needed simply to get something off his chest that had been simmering for years and this was the excuse he hadn't even known he'd been waiting for.

For whatever reason, Gallows opened his mouth and began, "Ten years ago I was commissioned to locate a High Paladin named Walter Katz…"


	2. The Team

Heart of Wastes

Chapter 2

"I was young but I wasn't new to the Brotherhood and I haven't always been based out of the Capitol Ruins. At one time I was a rising star in the Brotherhood outpost in the southeast. This post was once a splinter from the Midwestern Brotherhood.

I imagine that my commanders could've found a more experienced Knight, but not one that didn't have any connections. I suppose that was a factor in their choice, I really can't be sure. The main thing being that they did pick me and being a good Knight I followed orders.

In the briefing, the Elder told me that I would be hunting down a High Paladin named Katz. I had heard the name but didn't know too much about the man. I found out that he was supposed to be some kind of Brotherhood role-model. It had been awhile since I'd been an Initiate, but apparently they whispered his great deeds in the barracks.

Officially he had been sent out to unearth what was supposed to have been a rather large tech weapons cache far to the west into the wastelands. The reason he'd been picked instead of someone of less import was because the Brotherhood leaders thought they might make contact with some form of governing body and they wanted Katz to be able to conduct diplomatic undertakings without delay.

Communications with Katz's team had been severed when he had neared his objective. The Elders feared the worst and wanted me to go and discern his fate, I was only too happy to oblige. I felt that this was my chance; this was my shot to really be something to the Brotherhood. It was unlikely that I'd ever single handedly stumble across some amazing new tech and you all know that's the way to get ahead. I figured if I successfully returned a Brotherhood legend I would matter…

I was charged with selecting my own team for the mission. I had some good soldiers in mind. I thought that it would take a five man team to accomplish the mission safely and as rapidly as Command wanted it done. I chose Knight Turk to be my second. I had done work with him in the past and knew that he was solid under pressure and had an uncanny ability to survive situations when lesser men would get themselves killed.

Along with him came Knights Johnson and Bar. Johnson and Bar where best of friends, but it was hard for some to tell because they were perpetually arguing. Brotherhood ideology, survival tactics, hell even gender roles in post-apocalyptic 'society'. This was probably due to the fact that they were different in every way. Johnson was a 6' 1" female with red hair. She enjoyed big guns, missile launchers, Fat Men, minis. And she never seemed to stop smoking. It seemed the only times she wasn't lighting or smoking was when she was asleep or was forced to wear her helmet for an inspection.

Bar was, well, short. He was a black man and preferred to keep his head shaved. He also had a penchant for rifles. If someone took your head clean off and you never saw it coming, chances were, if you were in our area at least, that Bar was behind the scope with his trademark grin.

Rounding out the team we had an Initiate. I had been trying to prevent us from having to take one along but all the other Knights were slighted for other endeavors and were therefore unavailable. His name was Trevor Kissinger. He was once a tribal from the area that the Brotherhood had taken in. I wasn't keen on the practice of recruiting from outlying areas, but I also understood that attrition would eventually cripple us if we didn't. Initiate Kissinger was recommended to me by Command; else I probably wouldn't have taken him. He looked weak to me. Not physically, his time with our training officers had taken care of that. I just didn't appreciate the shiftiness that seemed to permeate his entire body when I fixed a straight eye on him. Reservations aside he was tasked mainly with leading the Brahmin that would be carrying our supplies for the journey so I wasn't too worried.

It was with this team that I set out, outside of the safety of our compound and eventually outside of everything I thought I knew about myself or about man…"


	3. Crater

Chapter 3

"We finally set out on our journey. We were well supplied but hadn't brought anything superfluous as we feared it would just slow us down, it would've been tragic if we made the whole long trek only to discover that he'd been dead because we took our precious time finding him.

I had possession of his travel plans and our first stop was going to be a well known Wastelander settlement. It seemed to me that Wastelanders fell into a few basic categories. You've got your survivors that don't care for anything past caps and making more caps. Then you've got your fellows that are just bat shit insane. Of course these guys come in a few different flavors, cannibals, religious freaks, etc. And then you've got your seemingly sane people. These are sometimes the scariest because most of the time they turn out to be one of the other two groups.

That being said I just didn't trust Wastelanders as a rule. After about a day of travel we arrived in Crater. This name is rather deceptive because Crater wasn't in, near, or on top of a crater of any kind. In fact it was situated on top of one of the rolling hills common in that area of the country. The source of the name is a major source of contention amongst the locals. Some swear that most of the supplies for building the city had come from a deep crater and had been drug up the hill to more fortifiable location. Others claimed that a man by the name of Crater had helped found the city and establish it as the bastion of trade that it was. I was of the opinion that it was because there was a large factory in the area that had 'Crater Food Distribution' plastered across the side of it.

It had been a few years since I had graced Crater with my prestigious personage. The last time I'd almost been killed, cheated, and married. I had matured somewhat since my last visit, luckily both in attitude and facial appearance. No one seemed to recognize me. Initiate Kissinger saw to our pack animal and promptly disappeared. Turk went to go requisition some extra supplies. I sent Johnson and Bar to go into the local watering hole and find out what they could learn while I sought out the community leaders.

On the way to Crater they had been in rare form.

'So, Bar… it's funny that men are still typically in positions of leadership over females isn't it?'

'Gee, Johnson, I don't know what the hell you're driving at.'

Turk and I exchanged glances.

'Well my imp like comrade, according to my studies it was male leadership at helm of the planet when we destroyed ourselves. It would seem to me that humanity should've learned its lesson.'

'Ms. Johnson', began Bar, 'I believe that it takes equal parts to create a beneficial living solution. And how about that archaic phrase, "behind every good man is a good woman pushing him," it seems to me by that logic women pushed men to it!'

Anyhow that conversation had begun in the Wastes and was continuing as they made their way up to the saloon.

As I turned to proceed up to the 'Big House', were all civil matters were dealt with, I had to stop short to keep from knocking down an elderly woman.

'Excuse me, ma'am,' I said as I tried to step to the side. The woman moved right back in front of me and began rambling in a cracked voice.

'The horror! You will find death and he will smile on you! No one else! No one else no one else noonelse nooneelsenooneelsenooneelse…'

This was quite startling, to put it mildly. Just as I was about to query her on what she was babbling about an older gentleman swooped down like a perched vulture and scooped the woman up into her arms saying, 'Don't scare the nice man, mother, you shouldn't wander off…' And off they went.

Rattled I proceeded up to the Big House and asked for the Supreme Councilor of Civil Matters in Crater and the Greater Surrounding Areas. Many Wastelanders, as you all know, have an inflated sense of self worth and spend inordinate amounts of time devising new ways of sounding important. Geoffrey was a prime example.

'Heeellloooo my oldest friend!' he declared when I went into his office and seated myself.

'Geoffrey', I said unsmilingly, 'I sincerely hope I'm not your greatest friend. I've been gone for years.'

'Well,' he retorted, 'You represent the illustrious Brotherhood of Steel and therefore we are best friends, but if you are going to be rude, get to the point. What is it you want?'

'An important man came through here about a month ago. You would remember this man both because he's Brotherhood and because he'd have been sure to make an impression. His name is Katz. High Paladin Katz of the Brotherhood of Steel.'

Geoffrey pursed his lips and feigned puzzlement for a moment but I glared at him coldly so he decided to drop the act. 'Yes I do recall your man. He and his posse didn't stay too long…' He looked shiftily at his desk and refused to make eye contact with me.

'Is there more you're going to tell me?'

Seeing that I'd either have it out of him or beat it out of him he continued, 'He came bustling in here and bought up almost our entire inventory of small arms. Rifles, shotguns, even some assault weapons.'

'Unusual', I muttered to myself. It was too because no one from the Brotherhood would need to buy scavved up arms. And why would Katz need all that.

I walked out of Geoffrey's office with more questions than answers but he'd managed to pass on one more succulent morsel of information before I'd left.

Katz's next stop was to be an abandoned town that supposedly hadn't been entirely stripped bare by scavengers. There was rumored to be an ancient Army Surplus that had reinforcement so fierce that average Wastelanders couldn't get in. Geoffrey had said Katz was unsatisfied with the number of arms he'd obtained in Crater and was going to check out this rumor before continuing on.

This made the former town, now ghost land of Bethel our next objective. I gathered up Turk, Johnson, and Bar to saddle up. We were about to go looking for him when Kissinger showed up already wearing his full face helmet.

'Why don't you take that thing off', said Turk, 'It's gotta be at least ninety-four out here.'

'I'm good,' came a cracked voice from inside the helmet.

I raised my eyebrows at Turk and shrugged. I didn't know that this incident and others that had transpired in Crater would have serious ramifications on my life and certainly those of my team… Maybe we should continue this story later?" said Gallows looking around the room at the Pride.

"To hell with that!" cried Glade, "If you stop now we probably won't ever get another peep from you and I can't abide unfinished stories."

"He's right," echoed Sentinel Lyons, "especially when you cap it off all cryptically, you know, the whole, 'little did I know' bit."

Gallows looked around and saw only captivation and rapt attention from his audience.

"Very well," he continued, "On our way to Bethel…"


	4. The Bethel Armoury

Chapter 4

"… On our way to Bethel Initiate Kissinger wasn't exactly himself. I wasn't especially familiar with him and what 'normal' consisted of for him by any means. This was our first operation together, as I mentioned. However I wasn't entirely naïve either.

'How are you holding up, Kissinger?' I shot back over my shoulder. For several miles now he'd been straggling toward the rear so much so that Bar had taken over leading the pack Brahmin.

'Never better chief', he croaked.

I nonchalantly moseyed over to Turk. 'So', I muttered, 'What the hell do you think is the matter with our boy back there?'

'If I had to guess sir, I'd say he's extremely ill. Now as to what could be causing this illness I will not venture to suggest…'

'Well he can rest when we get to Bethel.'

We traipsed onward for several more miles stopping once to fill our water containers. This had always been my least favorite part of traveling the Wastes. It was hot. It was thirsty, tiring work. And to top it off the water was grossly irradiated. In every sip you could almost feel your DNA crying. We always took every precaution that we could. We were downing Rad-X like it was Sugar Bombs, but as you all know; Rad-X doesn't make dirty Waste water anymore appetizing.

Finally we neared the ruins of Bethel. It was a sight that I'd seen a hundred times and had grown quite calloused to. Shells of buildings stood out starkly against a reddening sunset. Rubbish filled the streets. Only a couple of the buildings were still standing.

This now familiar sight made me recall the first time I'd lain eyes on complete desolation. I was about eight and I was accompanying the Knight I was Scribed to outside of the Brotherhood compound for the first time. He was being sent to scout out a nearby town that had been declared clear earlier. Someone had claimed to have seen movement and in the interest of preserving perimeter security, we were tasked with double checking.

As we neared that town I was overwhelmed by the thought that the corpse of a settlement that I was looking at had once a bustling center for human life. Real people, decades before had sweated and bled, had loved and ultimately died right where I was standing. And now nothing. Nothing to even show that these people had existed except for a few crumbling houses. Something that I bet pre-war civilization hadn't reckoned on was just how completely the bombs would destroy life. And continue to do so decades later through radiation… Anyways, I'm rambling. Back to Bethel.

We approached the 'town' cautiously because we were unsure of just what we may find. We walked down the center road of the town carefully looking for landmines that seemed to pop up in every seemingly 'abandoned' town. Weapons drawn we began clearing the houses that were still standing. Fortunately there weren't too many.

I'd just gotten through with one whose chief inhabitant had been a flame scorched teddy bear with one eye when Bar and Johnson came running up to me.

'Sir,' they both began breathlessly. The two exchanged looks and wordlessly decided that Johnson would tell me what was going on.

'Sir, we found something.'

I gestured to Turk who'd emerged from a house further down the street to come to me and shouted for Kissinger to tie up the Brahmin and join us.

After everyone was gathered I looked at Johnson and said, 'Do continue.'

'Sir, Bar and I breeched the door and proceeded to check the house. Bar went upstairs and I took the first floor. It was immediately clear that there had been Raiders in the house. Graffiti and what not. In the back room I found what appears to be a Raider Jet den. I also found several deads. After the first two floors were cleared, Bar and I proceeded to the basement in which we found a heavily enforced door. I believe that behind this door is the secret armory Katz was in search of.'

'Very good,' I said,'lets proceed.'

When we entered the house the stench of death would've been unbearable to someone who hadn't become so used to it. In the backroom were a couple of rotting Raiders that had apparently overdosed on the junk and been left by their 'comrades'.

Far more disturbing were the bodies of the poor tortured souls that can be found in almost any Raider camp. Why the Raiders did these things to their captives was unknown to me but I suspected that Raiders had no concept of the value of human life and therefore didn't think anything of taking it. In my experience however, Raiders were fully aware of the 'value' of their own life as they never laid down arms without an intense and bloody confrontation.

'Kissinger, you stay up here in the house and secure our perimeter. If there's any trouble meet back with us.' I felt sure that he could handle this since we'd already checked the remaining houses and had found nothing to suggest there might be trouble from without. 'The rest of you form up behind me. Let's open a door.'

We proceeded into the basement and I signaled for Bar to handle the door. He was exceptional with a lockpick. As he barely inserted the pick the door slowly slid open.

'Did you two check it before you came and found me?' I queried Johnson and Bar. They shook their heads 'no'.

'It seems as if someone has managed to get in. Keep your guards up.'

I was the first one into the pitch black opening. I sensed that the blackness stretched out about thirty feet in front of me. I motioned my team to follow me single file. We quickly and silently approached another door. By this time complete blackness enveloped all of us. I listened at the door and heard movement and whispers.

At the door I announced, 'We are the Brotherhood of Steel, if you have no hostile intentions then throw down your-' I didn't get a chance to finish saying 'weapons' before fire from several automatic weapons punched holes through the door I was standing in front of.

I dropped as fast as I could and so did my crew. Not fast enough however to avoid a high powered round slamming into my T4X Power Armor. Luckily it stopped the bullet and would leave only hideous bruise.

When the fire had ceased and we heard the hostiles begin to reload my team moved as one body. We burst into the impossibly dark room. I could sense my team spreading out and finding cover. Just then I heard a 'clink-clink' right behind me.

I dove forward just in time to save myself from the grenade blast that sent an intense heat wave over my back. In the instant that the blast illuminated the room I saw for the first time what we were up against. About ten Raiders had taken up position behind some over turned tables and various other makeshift barriers.

Before the glow from the frag fully wore off the ten became eight as both Johnson and Turk fired on our assailants. Turk's laser rifle drilled a super heated hole through the forehead of the Raider that still ahs his arm extended from throwing the nade. Simultaneously, the whirring sound of Johnson's minigun spooling up to rain death on the Raiders was comforting knowing I wouldn't be on the receiving end.

Johnson's target was nearly bifurcated through the waist as the stream of 5mm bullets shredded through his innards. Blood and viscera poured from his midsection as he sank to his knees trying to hold it all in, a look of disbelief plastered on his face.

Meanwhile I had found cover and picked my moment to peek around the corner to assess the situation. Eight hostiles remained and now they were returning fire. I tossed a plasma grenade over my cover and heard it detonate on impact, instantly incinerating two Raiders that were bunkered down behind some toppled over filing cabinets.

Just as the light from the blast was dying down I heard the distinctive 'crack' of Bar's prized possession, his highly modified sniper rifle. He'd taken the monstrous scope off of the beast before we had gone into the basement and now he was utilizing his deadly art with extreme efficiency even in this rather cramped indoor environment.

I chose this moment to dive from cover and slide into a good firing position. Halfway through my dive I was hit twice in the leg, the second one penetrating the armor and lodging in the muscle of my leg. I gritted my teeth against the pain and focused on my shooting, putting laser rounds through the chests of two more Raiders.

In the same instant Turk dropped another and I heard another crack from Bar's rifle, neutralizing a total of nine hostiles. Things became serenely quiet and I stood up, gingerly putting weight on my injured leg.

'Everyone ok?' I asked into the blackness.

'Yes sir' was heard all around.

'Johnson, deploy a lantern so we can see what the hell is going on.' I said.

Light shot through the blackness from Johnson's direction and we were all blinded for a moment. In the same instant we all heard the sound of a Ripper, the chainsaw-knife hybrid that Raiders seemed to prefer, tooling up. The figure of a Raider came flying through the air toward Johnson, the Ripper aimed straight for a plunge into her neck.

Before I could react, two shots rang out and the Raiders head literally exploded into pink mist spraying chunks of brain all over the room. The lifeless corpse landed on top of Johnson, knocking her down. Bar stood silhouetted against the light of the lantern, pistol drawn and still smoking.

I helped Johnson to her feet and Bar sauntered over, 'I guess you owe me one, huh?' he asked.

'I would've had him, you just didn't have to drop a big ole minigun before you went for your side arm,' retorted Johnson, however the look in her eyes was grateful.

'Ok', I said after we were doubly sure the room was clear, 'Lets see if we can find something that'll make this all worthwhile.'

'I've got something,' piped Turk after a couple of minutes of rummaging about in the papers that scattered the various desks. I held out my hand and in it Turk placed an inventory list. And it was quite a list. At one time this armory had held over one thousand brand new assault weapons. We couldn't be sure how many Katz had made off with but we could be sure that he'd been there.

In the corner, propped up in a sitting position was a Brotherhood Knight that had apparently been killed by a landmine as he was missing a leg and the lower portions of his armor were seared. On his body we found the same map that I had been given when I first set out to find Katz. However, on this map, our current location of Bethel had been drawn in. It also had a dotted line trailing off the scheduled route to the west.

'I think I know which direction we're headed next,' I said as I injected a Stimpack into my leg and pulled out the bullet that I had taken.

We all made our way back out of the room, through the hallway, and up the stairs where we found Initiate Kissinger.

He was laid back on one of the grimy beds in the backroom. His eyes were rolled into the back of his head and the now empty Jet injector was still clinched in his hand. He ws dead."


End file.
